


What A Lovely Handbasket

by Nyxierose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Comedy, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only so many ways a community production of The Sound Of Music can go wrong... right??</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Octavia

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a variant on the phrase "going to hell in a handbasket". Because reasons.

Ultimately, the problem is that Octavia is in love and doesn't know what to do about it.

Octavia Blake is a hopeless romantic, as most people figure out within ten minutes of meeting her. She happily goes to see rom-coms on her own, she cries during Disney movies, she _loves_ weddings even though she basically never goes to them because her friends suck at relationships even more than she does (and far be it from her to judge but sometimes that's their own damn fault), and… at twenty-two, she has never been in a serious relationship. For the most part, she has accepted this. Her Person is out there somewhere, and she is not quite one of _those_ girls. Just an avid daydreamer who likes the idea of attention and Grand Romantic Gestures is all.

At least, she was. And then last summer happened.

She's mostly blocked out the events of said summer because a lot of them featured her yelling at people she is normally friends with. She's been involved in community theatre since she was nine, and the big summer musical is the highlight of her year, especially since she got moved to stage crew during an awkward summer a few years ago and never looked back. Last year, she made assistant stage manager and it was great… for the five minutes between learning her new position and learning what that year's production was.

Sufficient to say, _Les Miserables_ is made way more interesting when everyone involved in the production has personal drama. There were some interesting casting choices. There were some _really_ interesting costuming choices, and if Octavia hears the word "anachronism" ever again she is going to stab someone. Jasper, who has been exiled to the tech booth since high school because in theory he can't get into trouble there, somehow acquired an actual cannon and "donated" it to the production. Raven managed to make it work, and thank goodness Monroe is pretty chill and has good insurance because anyone else would've been livid about what happened to her car. During the final performance, one of the big revolutionary flags actually caught fire and Octavia is ninety percent sure nobody noticed the girl in a black tank top and skinny jeans running onstage with a fire extinguisher because _there was too much else going on_. It was simultaneously a disaster and the best summer she's ever had.

There was just one tiny problem. Or one very _not_ tiny problem, depending on how one looks at the situation.

On the second day of rehearsals, before all of the casting had even been nailed down, someone totally new showed up. Normally, new people come because they have a friend (or occasionally family member) who's either in the group or used to be. This one had neither. This one, it turned out, had just moved to the area and had no one. But he was nice and he wanted to do sets, so he was welcomed with open arms and made Octavia's problem because of course he was.

Lincoln was… well, honestly, the man was perfect. Compared to everyone else behind the scenes, he was _quiet_ , and Octavia could've fallen for him based on that alone. The fact that he was really pretty helped. So did the fact that he was very intentionally nice to her. And the fact that he yelled at Murphy for her. (There was a history there, the short version of which is that Murphy is equal parts asshole and musical prodigy and neither one of those parts has a verbal filter and one of the best things about Octavia having a clipboard is that she has something nice to hit him with.) And… from the looks of it, Lincoln was falling for her too. It was perfect. They were adorable. She tried to help with his projects because it looked like he needed it. He held her when she needed to calm down. And then final dress rehearsal happened.

Final dress rehearsal, in the history of the group, is normally when all the bad shit happens. Things break. People get the flu. People have sex in places they shouldn't. Y'know, the usual. This particular year was comparatively not bad. The Griffin ladies got into a fight before curtain, but that was a normal enough event that half the group didn't even notice. Maya's mic decided not to work during her big solo, but that was not a world-ending event. Compared to previous years, things went well. _Too_ well, enough that a few questionable life choices were made. During the final number, all tasks having been completed, Lincoln wrapped his arms around Octavia and kissed her. Hard. It was _perfect_. Apart from the bit where they forgot that approximately twenty people were about to walk into their wing. _Small_ problem.

Octavia remembers nothing else of that night other than running. She showed up for performances and did her job as usual, but she did not speak to her friend. She did not attend the party a week after the show ended. She shut off.

The problem is that Octavia is in love and doesn't know what to do about it.

Nine months. Nine months should be enough time to move on. It isn't.

She shows up ten minutes late to the first meeting of the year - she had to rescue a turtle, it was really cute and she's not sure her car would've survived running it over anyways - and of course the only remaining seat is next to him and she decides she doesn't care anymore. She sits down and it's so easy to reach out and thread her fingers with his for strength and she can already see how much of a disaster the next three months will be and it distracts her from everything else and-

"Octavia?"

She looks up, makes eye contact with Jaha Senior. "Yeah?"

"We were just saying that since Jackson's wife is pregnant and due two weeks after the performance dates… could you handle actually being stage manager this year?"

"Give me a minion who'll actually listen to me and yeah, sure. I'd love to."

Lincoln gives her a sympathetic look. She replies by rolling her eyes. She can already see what everyone else in the group thinks, that they're doing what bunnies do on a very regular basis, and she wants to scream how wrong they are but she knows no one will listen. He's not her boyfriend. That one really epic kiss was their _only_ kiss. They're friends, and he's probably the best person she knows and definitely the only person in the room (including her brother) who can unconditionally put up with her shit, but they're not together. They probably never will be.

They're just… them, and maybe that's their great tragedy.

"Well, this is going to be an interesting summer," he says once the meeting is over. Everyone else has formed their usual groups, and somehow it's just them again because the universe is weird like that.

"Sound Of Music," Octavia mutters. "I know Julie Andrews is a goddess, but… I hate that movie so much. And we're going to have random people's kids running around and good _lord_ one of them is going to get traumatized for life from this place…"

"You grew up around this and you turned out fine."

"You're sweet. And wrong."

"It'll be okay, Octavia."

"No, it will not be okay. My brother will take over costumes again because World War Two is his _thing_ and therefore everything _has_ to be accurate, and god help us all if Team Puppy decides the goatherd song requires _actual_ goats, and-"

"Octavia." Lincoln puts his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. "You worry too much, and you have no faith in anyone."

"I have known most of these people for over a decade. You've known them for roughly a year. I feel like I win here."

"Can you at least try not to hit anyone with your clipboard unless they genuinely have it coming?"

"Exactly how much effort do I have to put into that?"

"Think about it. Please."

"Okay, fine. But if anyone brings live animals or real weapons in here, they're dead…"

The problem is that Octavia is in love and she knows exactly what she wants to do about it. She's just not sure _how_.


	2. Marcus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-destructive pining is an interesting situation.

One of these days, Marcus is going to draw his line.

He grew up within the group. His mother founded it when he was thirteen, and it was their thing - a way of dealing with the loss of his father, and then it turned into something so much bigger. And every year since, no matter what his feelings on the production or anyone else involved, Marcus has showed up and played nice. He can only imagine the amount of guilt he'd have to suffer through if he didn't - small towns are terrifying like that, and three years after her death, the legacy of Vera Kane is still bigger than her son will ever be.

Three years. She died the day of the first meeting that year, ironically enough, and Marcus wanted to take that year off and stay well away from the summer musical. Unfortunately, _guilt_. The fact that the entire thing was designed to honor the group's late founder just made it worse. _Fiddler On The Roof_. Why his mother loved that particular musical as much as she did, he's completely okay with not knowing. It was her _favorite_ , so they did it and the thirtieth annual summer musical was the calmest season Marcus can remember.

Or, at least, it would've been if the group hadn't acquired a mother-daughter pair that year. The daughter, sixteen and hostile, exiled to extra because no one quite knew what to do with her. The mother, forty-three and beginning her descent into a midlife crisis, given a lead role for no apparent reason. The both of them, headaches on legs.

She was married, Marcus had to remind himself about once every five minutes. She was married, and her marriage seemed happy, and he was not the sort of man to play homewrecker.

One of these days, Marcus is going to draw his line.

The next year. _Chicago_. He sat that one out, made himself useful backstage and fought hard for the new assistant stage manager to keep her place. He got into a small fight with the choreographer the group hired that year, but nothing worse than the usual shenanigans within the group. He tried, and failed, to keep from spending too much time staring into Abigail Griffin's tired eyes.

And then there was last year. The planets aligned to screw him over, as they did every few years to keep things interesting, and the vehicle of choice was _Les Miserables_. Or, as one of the younger members of the group referred to it, _Everyone Dies: The Three-Hour Musical_. The nickname stuck. Marcus wasn't sure who'd come up with that one, or who decided it'd be _fun_ to cast him as the ultimate asshole military type, but it was better that he didn't find out. He played nice - actually saying no was not an option - but he made it clear that he was less than happy.

Unfortunately, this was also the summer of Abigail Griffin's divorce. The details were hazy as far as most of the group was concerned, but mother and daughter fought like cats on crack (as one of the tech boys described it) every time they were in the building together. Which, naturally, was almost every time _either of them_ was in the building. By the time that performance week rolled around, no one even noticed. Except Marcus.

He had a girlfriend, he reminded himself. But he probably wouldn't in another few months. And Abby was… well, perfect wasn't enough of a word for her. She was falling apart, and he couldn't say or do anything to help lest it seem that he was trying to take advantage of her situation. Which he wasn't, he swears. He just wanted to _be there_ , but there wasn't space for him or anyone else in her world.

He saw her a few times over the following year, but he never said anything. The timing wasn't quite yet. The next summer, he promised himself, he'd move forward.

One of these days, Marcus is going to draw his line.

The group had actually done _The Sound Of Music_ during one of the first years, when he was in high school and played one of the Von Trapp boys (names are permanently lost on him, but there are pictures of a young Marcus Edward Kane in lederhosen and that unfortunately is something that three decades cannot erase). He's fairly sure he's the only person currently in the group who knows this, and he makes his peace with that knowledge. It's a completely different ensemble of people now, and it really is an appropriate production for the group.

At least, that's what he tells himself until casting day, three days after the first meeting. He knows, before he enters that room, what is going to happen. He knows, as much as he wishes he didn't, that he's going to be front and center again. He doesn't fight this. He doesn't even try to pretend he's surprised.

But then it gets worse, because apparently he's getting screwed two years in a row. Not only is he going to have to appear onstage in damningly accurate military uniform, courtesy of the weird Blake kid (and how the history nut is the weird one instead of the tiny one who actually hits people with her clipboard is one of the universe's great mysteries), but he's going to have to do it opposite the woman he's basically in love with. Fucking perfect.

"I'm not sure who I want to kill," he mutters, approaching her after the carnage is over with.

"What do you mean?" Abby asks, tilting her head. "I know you don't like me, but I can't be _that_ bad…"

"It's not you," he mutters. It's a lie, but somehow it's also true.

"Oh?"

"You're just… not an easy person for me to be around."

"Not easy as in I make you want to blow your brains out or not easy as in I make you want to fuck me?"

Well, at least she's direct.

"Both?"

Screw lines. If Marcus survives this summer, then maybe there _is_ a benevolent deity in the sky.

 


	3. Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blow up someone's car, get stuck babysitting Team Puppy. There's logic in that SOMEWHERE, right?!

Raven Reyes is too awesome for this bullshit.

Unlike nearly everyone else, she was actually _asked_ to join the group a few years back, when the boys who do tech nearly totaled the soundboard. To this day, she's not entirely sure who thought that randomly asking an eighteen-year-old mechanic if she had enough free time to do them a favor was a good idea, but she was bored and figured she'd be in and out in a few hours. And that year, she was.

The next year, she got her heart broken and needed somewhere to hide. This time, she stayed.

Raven normally hangs out behind the scenes, making sure everything works. In fact, she's been onstage a grand total of once - two years ago, because some asshole dared her, and she played an _interesting_ Velma Kelly so fuck that. Otherwise, she handles equipment and scenery and stays out of the way. She's good at that, as long as everyone else stays out of _her_ way, and almost everyone in the group is terrified of her so that's rarely a problem. Rarely.

Thing is, last year was a little different for two reasons - Raven kissed two people she shouldn't have, and Jasper Jordan somehow acquired a goddamn functional cannon. The two events were (mostly) unrelated.

First, the kissing.

Both times were totally meaningless as far as Raven is concerned.

Her second-in-command (well, technically they're both in charge of build crew but Raven actually runs it and Wick shows up and does the other half of the work because everyone else they have is borderline useless) was an inevitability. They're just friends, but the kind of friends everyone thinks are on a certain level. They're affectionate, because it's fun, and they both know it's never going to go romantic or even sexual (probably) (they've both thought about it but never at the same time so it's unlikely). And out of the blue, because Raven needed to get about half a dozen people out of her area _quickly_ , she decided a little PDA would be effective. It was. Didn't mean anything. Didn't _need_ to mean anything.

The other one was a little less inevitable, but still something she'd thought about for a while. It happened because, well, Bellamy Blake is a dick. This is an established fact. He's stubborn, he's really intelligent, he's hot, and he has almost no verbal filter. (His little sister is worse, but Raven actually likes her because Octavia is a nice person once you get through the layer of hostility.) Unfortunately for everyone in the group, Bellamy has run costumes for the last few years - not because he's any good at _making_ them, although he is, but because it was easier to hand him that responsibility than listen to him going off about historical inaccuracy. For the most part, like anyone else who has a section within the group, everyone else just lets him do his thing and stays out of his way. And last year, that worked until there was a problem with flags.

For the record, Raven had that shit down. She actually did research, thank you very much. But apparently there was one tiny detail that wasn't completely perfect, and Bellamy decided he was suicidal enough to pick a fight with her, and that fight turned into a fifteen-minute ordeal that also featured that new guy looking at them like he was worried he might have to physically separate them, and… then Raven snapped and decided the best way to get Bellamy to shut up was to kiss him. Hard. All dramatic, proper making out in front of several people who did _not_ expect that to happen. It worked, and it was satisfying and yet still meant nothing. (At least to her. She's not sure what his side is, because he avoided her the entire rest of the production and they barely interacted during the off-season. God, she hopes he's not in love with her.)

Raven Reyes is too awesome for this bullshit.

The incident with the cannon was, admittedly, her fault. You can't put on a decent production of _Les Miserables_ without weaponry in the second half, and she mentioned as much, along with how cool it'd be if someone found an actual cannon. Not necessarily a working one, she made that clear, but one made of metal instead of plastic. That'd be cool, she said.

Three days later, an actual proper working cannon was in her build room. The only explanation she got was on a sticky note attached to the damn thing: "you love us, xoxo J+M". That was all the explanation she needed.

Jasper and Monty are partners in crime and, up through that year, the sole occupants of the tech booth. Monty is a certified genius, putting himself through college by freelance hacking, and normally a functional if slightly offbeat human. Jasper is disaster on legs and aware of this set of personality flaws, but he's amazing with lights. The two of them appropriated one of the dressing-room bathrooms for their misadventures in illegal alcohol production, but they're well-liked within the group because Monty is perfect and Jasper is funny. They're just… not always in possession of common sense.

Naturally, Raven had to see if the cannon actually _worked_. Several hours and a creative combination of fireworks later, she dragged the thing (it was blessedly on wheels) out into the parking lot for a test run. Not because it would be fired during the show - even she knew better - but because she _could_. She swears she meant to aim toward the vacant part of the lot, but something went wrong and the result basically took out Elise Monroe's car. Not bad for forty bucks of discount explosives and two hours of reassembling them, but simultaneously terrible.

Monroe was surprisingly calm about the whole situation. She wasn't thrilled, obviously, but she made a few phone calls and her insurance covered the majority of a replacement vehicle and everything was okay there. The people in charge of the group were less calm, and Raven spent the remaining month of production acting and feeling like an inmate on death row. Which, in hindsight, she basically was.

Raven Reyes is too awesome for this bullshit.

Her punishment - never mind that no one actually used that word, everyone knew that's what it was - was announced at the first meeting of the new year. Apparently, Mr. Sinclair was getting bored with monitoring Jasper and Monty and wanted a change of pace. That meant a replacement was needed, and Raven was selected because she works so _well_ with them.

Um… no.

Monty, she can deal with. Monty is cute. Monty genuinely attempts to be a decent human. Monty can be a little annoying sometimes, but he's also the little brother Raven always kinda wanted and she's forever mad that stealing him away for build crew was never an option. Monitoring him won't be a problem.

Jasper, though? Jasper's a pest. Not quite a parasite - Raven reserves that term for her ex - but damn close. Jasper's too much for one human to keep an eye on, and yet she's got the unenviable task because the mere thought of leaving those two to their own devices is the sort of thing most of the group has nightmares about. Someone has to do it, and everyone hates her right now so she gets the short straw. Fucking awesome.

Raven spends the rest of the meeting looking around the room and seeing if there's _anyone_ she could talk into taking her place, but she doesn't find anyone. Wick keeps elbowing her because he thinks she's falling asleep, which she really isn't but she probably _could_ because none of the details matter, she's a glorified babysitter this year and she hates it. But then, as things are calming down, she sees a perfect solution to her problems.

As soon as the official part of the meeting is over, she gets to her feet and walks right over to Nathan Miller with a determined 'I know you're gay but I'm still very hot and very scary and you're gonna do what I want' look on her face. "So what do they have you on this year?" she asks, sounding all innocent.

"Not sure. Floater, probably. Extra Nazi number two. Bellamy's conscience?"

"So if I tell you that I need your help with something…"

Miller - the kid goes by his last name, even though his dad is also involved in the group - rolls his eyes. "What's in it for me?"

"You have a major crush on Monty and this might work in your favor? Plus, someone needs to film it if I actually try to murder one of them. You in?"

"You're gonna owe me for the rest of your life, Raven."

"Whatever."

Raven Reyes is going to find her way out of this bullshit if it's the last thing she does - and if it actually is, she couldn't care less.

 


	4. Lincoln

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling is easier when you're not the only one.

There comes a point in every person's life where they must accept that they are in over their head. Lincoln has this moment about ten minutes into the start-of-year meeting, when the probable love of his life shows up late and muttering something about a turtle.

Octavia is… god, she's a hurricane in a tiny body and he's halfway inclined to be scared of her. Most people are - that was one of the first things he learned when he turned up last year in need of a creative outlet, well before anything he actually _needed_ to know. This is Octavia, she runs the behind-the-scenes half of production and she will definitely hit you with your clipboard if she doesn't like you.

But she _did_ like him. That was the problem.

It happened quickly, he realizes in hindsight. That first day, she gave him a list of who to avoid and why and a brief history of the relevant dramas and her keyring, at least temporarily until she could get a few duplicates made for him. There was so much warmth in her, unexpected, and he probably fell for her that day. He'd _definitely_ fallen for her by a week later, when she collapsed in his arms because someone had done something she didn't want and she didn't realize who she was falling apart with until a good ten minutes into her crying episode or panic or whatever it was. She'd tried to apologize, but he kissed her forehead and told her it was okay, he'd be there whenever she needed him.

They were in love, and then he kissed her, and then she ran and that was the end of it. At least, it should've been the end of it.

But then she slips into the seat next to him at start-of-year and says something about not wanting to run over a turtle and it's way too easy to reach out and take her hand and try to anchor her. This is it, he tells himself. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise over the last nine months, he's still completely in love with her, and there's no going back from that.

They exchange formalities afterwards, and he tries to calm her down because that's half of their weird little friendship, but it doesn't work. He can already see how this ends. Octavia - brave, passionate, good Octavia - is going to have one hell of a breakdown at some point between now and the final performance. And he's going to be there to pick up the pieces, because he doubts anyone else will even notice.

About midway through the second meeting, once everything's devolved into a catfight about casting and historical accuracy and malfunctioning equipment (just like last year, except this time he can mostly follow it), Lincoln decides he needs some air. As entertaining as some of that is, it doesn't effect him. Unless someone forgot a major detail, he has the same supply budget as last year and the same responsibilities and the same ability to do whatever he wants as long as he doesn't get in anyone's way without reason. He'll catch the last ten minutes of the carnage, but getting out of that room for at least half an hour is completely necessary for his sanity.

He's unsurprised when, almost the moment he makes it out into the parking lot, he's not alone.

"I have no idea why this one was mandatory," Octavia mutters, leaning her back against the wall next to him. "It's three hours of empty threats and sexual tension but somehow I need to be around for it. No idea why."

"Battle plans?" Lincoln suggests.

"No need. Keep Raven away from my brother because I'm not sure who wins that fight and I know there are actual sharp swords somewhere in the costume room, hope to every deity ever imagined that Marcus and Abby work though their eyefucking problem before dress rehearsals at the latest, and find a way to justify buying a muzzle for Harper. I've got this."

"Tae-"

"I get it. You're still mad at me for last summer, which… you had bad timing, and if you'd waited five more minutes…"

"You don't hate me?"

Octavia rolls her eyes. "You're basically the only person currently in or around this building who I don't actively want to kill."

He's not sure how that's a good thing, but it's her and she doesn't say things she doesn't mean so he figures it is. "Thanks…?"

"God, I've been a fantastic bitch to you." She turns to look at him better, a certain sadness in her eyes. "I didn't mean to do that. I _like_ you, and I just… you were so good to me last year. You're so good to me _now_. I'm not used to people doing that."

"Treating you like a human being?" he asks. He can relate.

"Not being scared of me. Letting me be delicate and breakable when I need to be. Taking care of me. All the things you were so good at last year even though you didn't know me and didn't have any reason to and-"

"Breathing. Breathing is good, Tae."

"I have better ideas," she says, face lighting up as she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him.

It's nothing like last year - a different intensity, and she's actually crying - but she still tastes and feels the same. It's all too easy and instinctive to put his arms around her and lift her up to make things more comfortable for both of them, and it's a position he keeps even when she pulls away. "That was-"

"Probably a huge mistake, but I wanted to. You're one of the good ones. Like… you're the best person I know. You really are. And I feel bad because every time I think about you, I start with how kind and talented you are and end with how much I want you on me. It's a problem."

"We don't have to figure it out right now."

"We basically snuck out of a very important thing to make out."

"I wasn't planning on that part of it."

"Neither was I," she laughs. "Just… happened. Felt good. Might as well confirm what everyone thinks about us."

"And what is that?" Lincoln asks, genuinely worried. He's too new to be in the gossip loop - really, the fact that he knows _anything_ is a damn miracle - and he doesn't remember any confrontations last year. (Then again, everything he remembers about last year is standing right in front of him.)

"That we're sleeping together. That I'm a rabid slut who'd probably fuck anyone. Stuff like that."

"It's not true," he reminds her.

"Yeah, but no one's going to believe me. You, maybe, but… what happened last summer? I'd never kissed anyone before that. I know everyone thinks otherwise, but-"

"It's okay. First time for me too."

"Really?" She rolls her eyes.

"Really." And he knows it's a weird thing to admit, seeing as he was twenty-seven at the time and almost twenty-eight now, but he'd never wanted to do those things with anyone before. And then he met her, and nothing was the same after that.

"I think I'm in love with you."

He can't reciprocate, even though he wants to, but he smiles as she collapses into him like she always does. If he's in over his head, at least he's not alone.

 


	5. Miller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revenge is going to be awesome. (And totally necessary. TOTALLY necessary.)

If anyone else had asked Miller to help monitor the tech puppies, he would've told them where to stick it. Good thing Raven is the scariest person he knows.

Miller isn't bothered by much. Out of his era, he's been involved in the community theatre group the longest - it's how his parents met, after all, and he can't remember _not_ at least being around during the summer musical and the Christmas spectacle. It's a huge dysfunctional extended family, and one of the great things about having that background is that nothing else in the world surprises him. Something's on fire? Non-issue. Someone's bleeding? Whatev. Nudity hasn't registered with him since he was about twelve, and catfights are a comforting background noise. He is absolutely unbreakable.

At least, he thinks he is. And then certain people remind him that he isn't.

As far as Miller's aware, Raven is one of exactly two people who knows about his Australia-sized crush on Monty Green. Bellamy is the other one, and Bellamy is surprisingly uninvested in the situation. (Miller is pretty sure this is because Bellamy is too busy trying to figure out how to get rid of his sister's boyfriend, which is hilarious because (a.) those two aren't actually a thing, or if they are then they're doing a fantastic job hiding it, and (b.) Lincoln nearly pushed John Murphy into the orchestra pit, something everyone else in the group has thought about for _years_ but never had the guts to attempt, and is thus one of Miller's favorite people ever even though he doesn't know the other guy that well.) Bellamy knows, because Miller needed to talk to _someone_ about that situation when it got bad over Christmas, but Bellamy is being the better person for the first time in his life and staying the fuck out of it. Raven, on the other hand…

Raven likes to meddle. Miller has seen this firsthand - Raven is mostly responsible for Maya and Harper finally getting over themselves last summer, and even though that situation is far from resolved, it would've taken those two another few years to get their shit together if Raven hadn't said or done something. (No one's entirely sure _what_ she did, but it worked.) Raven also has fantastic radar for potential relationships. Examples - the above situation with Maya and Harper, she called the Lincoln + Octavia situation three days after they met (aka two and a half months before the brain-scarring liplock), and her determination to shove two of the actual adults into one of the closets if they don't hook up of their own devices this year. And, unfortunately, her awareness of Miller's epic crush on Monty.

He's not sure how she figured it out, honestly. He's pretty subtle about it, or at least he thinks he is. But somehow Raven saw right through that, and in typical fashion, she's using it to make his life miserable.

(In fairness, she does this shit to everyone. Raven Reyes is easily amused and probably going to qualify as an evil genius in the next few years. It's an interesting combination so long as one isn't on the bad end of it.)

And, unfortunately, there was no way for Miller to say no. This year, there are no good parts for someone in his range, which means he needs something to do for most of production. And Raven, still disgraced after the accidental car bomb of last summer, needs someone she can pawn her assigned task off on so she can go back to whatever she _wants_ to be doing. It's a perfect storm. Damn her.

On the one hand, Miller thinks, it means he has an excuse to spend a lot of time with his object of affections. On the other hand, he's going to be spending a good part of that time planning revenge.

He decides to go with the easiest option - make friends and raise hell.

The main catalyst for this, or at least the obvious one, is the Sacred Bathroom. Weird name be damned, it's a polite euphemism for Jasper and Monty's pet project - and it actually is in one of the backstage bathrooms, albeit one that has been modified so as not to technically be one anymore. The Sacred Bathroom is a six-foot square room that, over the last few years, has been turned into the production facility of a boutique distillery. The less anyone else knows about that project, the better. Everyone knows it's there, everyone knows it's why Monty has facility keys because he keeps it running even during the off season, and everyone knows that summer means a series of interesting liquors inspired by that year's production. That's all anyone _needs_ to know.

(It's also a fantastic fire hazard and several kinds of illegal, but despite the fact that the group includes two cops and a social worker, no one really has an issue with that. In theory, if anyone gets hurt, it'll be the two dingbats responsible for the project, and they definitely have it coming.)

When Monty shows up to tend the operation on day three of production, Miller is standing right by the door.

"What are you doing here?" the younger boy asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Figured babysitting included this part of your tasks too."

Monty rolls his eyes. "I'm going to kill Raven."

"Let me help?"

"With the still or with attempted murder?"

"Both?"

"Fine," Monty shrugs. "Just put on gloves before you touch anything. Actually, _don't_ touch anything. I haven't replaced the pipe yet this year and I don't want you screwing it up."

"You have no faith in me."

"Not true. I just have minimal faith that the current setup will be able to handle this year's output. We're upping the ante."

"Oh?"

"Yep. I have a certain feeling it's going to be necessary. Speaking of which, do you think a bathtub would actually fit through that door?"

"No."

"Would you mind trying to explain that to Jasper?"

" _Yes_."

"He won't listen to me."

It's Miller's turn for an eyeroll. "And you think I'm gonna get through to him?"

"It's worth a shot. Otherwise what's the point of you?"

Miller's well aware that Monty _probably_ didn't mean that as an insult, but it sure feels like one. "Hey, I'm here under duress."

"Like I said, I wasn't aware that this was part of required babysitting."

"Multiple people have given me lists of things that are not allowed to be brought into the building by you or Jasper. I have to make sure you don't do that."

"What's on the lists?"

"Can't tell you."

"It's a good thing you're hot," Monty mutters. "Now get out. If you're not going to help, you can hang out on the other side of this door and we can lie to Raven if she asks stupid questions."

Well, so much for _that_ going according to plan...

 


	6. Bellamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overprotective mode= activated.

The Blake siblings have what everyone who has ever met them describes as an _interesting_ relationship. When they were younger, the preferred word was "codependent", but then Octavia hit puberty and Bellamy started university and… ten years later, they put the fun in dysfunctional.

Technically, they live together. Technically, as in Bellamy is more likely to accidentally fall asleep at the university (he's in what _should_ be the final year of getting his doctorate) and forget that he does actually have a comfortable mattress somewhere. Or, during summers, the same routine except at the theatre. He has facility keys because he made duplicates of Octavia's two summers ago while she was in one of her panics, and the couch in the main costume room is actually really comfortable. He's pretty sure he's not the only one who basically moves in, and he highly doubts anyone's going to call him out on it.

Well, unless his sister's weird boyfriend does. That'd be his luck.

As a general rule, Bellamy does not like the idea of Octavia dating anyone. Yes, he gets that she's twenty-two and independent and pretty good at life choices, but she's _twenty-two_. She's seven years younger than him, but in his brain she's a lot younger than that. And honestly, Octavia's taste in guys sucks. The one almost that happened a few years back would've been a disaster, and no one's managed to confirm Bellamy was responsible for what happened to that kid so no one ever needs to know. And somehow, the current one is _worse_.

Here's the thing - in any other world, Bellamy would genuinely like Lincoln. They're in the same age bracket, and the other man is _frighteningly_ calm (probably in a way that suggests there are psychotropics involved) and does not cause drama and is generally a decent person. And if he'd kept well away from Octavia, maybe the two men would've been friends. But that happened, and Bellamy is never gonna unsee the details, and it's a problem.

He hoped, vainly, that a year's distance would solve the problem. It did not. The theatre group is a week into turning The Sound Of Music into a fantastic trainwreck, and Octavia is in a better mood than Bellamy can remember in _years_. Which means the boyfriend is still a thing, he's sure of it. Fantastic.

He decides, in typically awful fashion, that maybe a conversation will solve the problem. It does not.

"So at what point did you plan on telling me?" he asks, trying to be all casual about it.

"Telling you _what_?" Octavia counters. She's getting defensive. This is an interesting sign.

"The boyfriend."

"Excuse me?"

"At least let me know before you run off and get married in Vegas."

Her eyes get real wide as she processes what's going on, and it takes a surprising amount of effort to keep from punching him. "I am _twenty-two_ , Bellamy. I make my own life choices. And if this is about who I think it's about, I'm not dating him so you have nothing to worry about."

"I call bullshit. He's always following you around, you make puppy eyes at each other-"

"We're friends. I'm allowed to have friends, asshole."

"Friends don't look at each other like that."

"Like _what_ , exactly? Like we're capable of having emotional attachments that don't involve fucking like rabbits instead of actually _talking_? I get it, that's how _you_ are when you like someone, but… we're only half-siblings, remember? I did not inherit that genetic defect."

"Like he's envisioning ripping your clothes off and you're not far from the same. That kind of look."

"Well, if that were to happen, I'd be okay with it," she mutters, turning and walking away.

That settles it, Bellamy decides. He's going to bring this down if it's the last thing he does, because the absolute last thing he needs is his sweet little sister making life choices of the hard-to-undo variety…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not sure who I'm shipping this dingbat with, and I promise he's eventually going to be less of an ass. EVENTUALLY.


	7. Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distractions just aren't FAIR.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, I'm back!! After thinking I was never gonna get around to updating this fic again, I discovered a new (and glorious) trash ship, and HERE WE ARE!!

Loaning out equipment is not supposed to be this much of a disaster.

The tech booth is a disaster. This is an established fact, thank you very much, and Raven has decided that her _real_ summer project is going to be a valiant attempt at organizing the chaos. Or in other words, throwing out everything that doesn't work - which, so far, is most of the contents of several plastic bins. Three down, roughly a dozen of those to go, and already about two hours of her life she's never going to get back. Yay.

She's about to start on bin four, which she's pretty sure hasn't been touched in about ten years, when the extension cord hooked up to her radio starts sparking _again_. As in, said extension cord should probably be thrown out but she hasn't gotten around to it and her good one migrated elsewhere. As in, about the first thing that happened when she got to the theatre today was Lincoln asked if he could borrow it, and she said yes because she at least _kinda_ trusts him, but it's probably in someone else's hands now and…

Dammit, if it's somehow in the Bathroom, heads are gonna roll.

She all but runs down the spiral staircase, determined to perform a rescue if it's the last thing she does. That extension cord is the only thing in this building that she knows for fact will do exactly what she wants, and she's gonna get it back and go on with her day and gods fucking help whomever's currently got the damn thing and-

All of a sudden, her body collides with something and _shit_ , today just got weirder.

Solid, whatever she's just hit. Warm, human, _fuck_ , bad.

"And who exactly are you?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

Raven looks up, eyes slowly migrating from the floor and taking in this unknown person. Male, hot, probably a perfect storm of bad life choices but _hot_ and maybe she feels like setting herself on fire.

"Get out of my way," she growls.

"And if I don't?" mystery man counters. He's actually smirking, which is unfairly hot and making her feel warm in questionably appropriate places and she doesn't know who the fuck he is but right now he's a headache she really doesn't need.

"Pretty sure nobody here likes you enough to come to your funeral," she laughs.

"Point taken. Now, my question…"

"Help me find my goddamn extension cord and I'll think about it."

"I'm just asking your name."

"And I'm asking you to get the fuck out of my way, but it's a good thing you're pretty 'cause it doesn't look like you can follow simple instructions and-"

"Extension cord?"

"Yeah. Bright fucking orange, eight feet, actually _works_ …"

"Haven't seen it," he shrugs. "I'll help you look?"

"No. No you will not because I don't know who the hell you are, you're annoying, and-"

"Roan. Helping with sets. I'm-"

"Great. I don't care."

With that, she side-steps him and moves on with her mission. She's got better things to do than flirt with randoms who won't even survive the season.

Ultimately, however, it's a lost cause. Just like everything else good, the mythical completely-functional extension cord never turns up, and she finally settles for grabbing a roll of electrical tape and fixing the one that sparks once every nineteen minutes for no apparent reason. Raven is nothing if not resourceful, and she can deal with a little chaos.

\---

The next morning, when she comes in to continue her cleanout, there's a shopping bag on her favorite chair. Inside, two _beautiful_ brand-new extension cords, still in packaging and everything and both of them a very distinctive shade of periwinkle.

There's no note, but she doesn't have to wonder where they came from. She just knows.

Maybe this summer won't be such a loss after all…


End file.
